The King of Everything
by Annie M1
Summary: A possible slice of life from the Bing household set around fifteen months after the finale.


Title: "The King of Everything"

Author: Annie M

Series: Friends

Rating: T

Codes: Mondler

Part: This story is complete

Date: September 11th 2005

Summary: A possible slice of life from the Bing household set around fifteen months after the finale.

Notes: I've written fan fiction for other genres, but this is my first attempt at a Friends fan fiction, so feedback would be much appreciated. This story has not been proof read, because my usual beta reader would probably be surprised to know that "Friends" is my latest guilty pleasure.

Hopefully any grammatical errors that remain are not significant enough to ruin your reading pleasure. Please also note that as I'm English all spellings used here are British.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No infringement intended to Bright, Kaufman, Crane, Warner Bros TV or whoever else owns a slice of this goldmine.

(c) Annie M, September 11th 2005.

---

**The King of Everything**

**By Annie M**

---

I'm exhausted, physically exhausted. My wife has worn me out completely. I can hear the babies crawling around on the floor somewhere, and I know I have to get up, or at least raise my head off this pillow to see if they're okay, but God knows, I don't think I have the strength to do it.

"Hey, little guys, where do you think you're going, huh? Come 'ere you two."

Oh, thank God, Mon's got them. Seriously, I can't even lift my head up. Am I even breathing? Oh, yeah, I'm breathing, or should I say I'm panting for breath. Where does she even find the energy?

I feel the bed dip and suddenly I can feel a bunch of tiny hands and feet grabbing at my neck and chest. A set of larger fingers are combing through my hair. I open my eyes to see my wife dressed in a robe that's falling off her shoulder and smiling down at me. I reach out gently for one of the babies.

"Hey," is all I can manage, while I wait for my respiratory system to return to normal. I'm still not sure who I'm holding now as I weakly try and sit up against the pillows and headboard.

"Ouch." I look down to see Jack trying to take a bite out of my hand. "Hey, just because your teeth are coming in doesn't mean you can still use me as a chew toy, understand young man?" My son gurgles happily up at me and resumes chewing, leaving a trail of spit bubbles over the back of my hand as I try and ease the side of my thumb from his mouth.

Erica's trying to crawl into Monica's lap, but her tiny pyjama covered feet keep slipping against the sheet covering my thigh until Mon gives her a helpful tug. Finally settled against her mother's stomach and chest she rests peacefully for a few minutes and I close my eyes again; enjoying the happy silence I know will be brief.

I feel Mon shift closer to me and I instinctively turn my head to kiss the exposed skin of her shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" she asks me quietly.

"Like I could sleep for a week."

I feel her chuckle beside me. I open one eye and gaze down at Jack, then at Erica. "Nap time?"

"Chandler, they just woke up," my wife admonishes me in a hushed tone.

"But they're sleeping," I whisper defensively. What time was it anyway, what day?

"You woke them up a little early, remember? They'll be screaming for their bottles within the hour."

"I woke them up? I thought you were the screamer," I joke.

Monica smacks my thigh. "My mouth was a little busy this morning, so no, it was all you, big guy."

Ah yes, that was me wasn't it. As nice as it was to wake up that way I can't help saying out loud; "I think you've sucked me dry, Mon." She gives me a disbelieving look. "Seriously, I'm exhausted."

My wife continues to glare at me.

"I'm not just talking about last night. Or this morning," I try to explain. "Or last week, but for the last few months you've been kind of insatiable--"

"And you haven't?" she said accusingly.

"Well, you're kind of hard to resist when you've got your hands in my--"

Interrupting my wisecrack she said, "So, what, now I'm forcing you to have sex?"

Oh shit, that's not what I meant. At all! "No. Monica, it's just… I mean… I, when you--"

"What?"

Man is it ever difficult to talk about sex when you're holding sleeping babies in your arms and you're trying not to raise your voice, and to top it all off you're sounding like the most ungrateful person who's ever lived.

"Baby, I'm falling asleep at my desk at work; I've been late to meetings three times this month because I've been sleeping on the subway and missing my stop." Shit, this is all coming out wrong, but I can't seem to shut up. "The moment the babies are down in the evening you're practically ripping my clothes off, and don't even get me started on the evenings I'm in a match."

"So, what, I can't find my husband sexy, is that it?" Monica demands in a harsh whisper.

That stops me for a moment and I have to smile. "You really think I'm sexy?" It's not like she hasn't said it before, but every time she does, a part of me can't get my head around the concept, while another part of me is doing my happy dance and shouting out gleefully, "Yes, I'm de man!"

"Not anymore. Here, take Erica. I'm going to warm up their bottles." Gently laying Erica beside me Monica was off the bed and heading towards the stairs before I could think of anything to say to stop her.

A man much wiser than I, when it came to women, once told me something that I promised myself I would always remember. Trouble was that particular memory kicked in a little too late; "Dude, you got to have sex, right?"

Yeah, Joe, I got to have lots of amazing sex. Oh God, what was wrong with me, why was I such a girl?

---

Monica wasn't talking to me. I brought the kids downstairs about twenty minutes after she'd left to warm up their milk. Silently she took Jack from my arms and handed me a bottle for Erica. The kids are like fifteen months old, so I'm a pretty dab hand with the feedings and diapering. They each have their own high-chairs and they are both content to manage the bottle themselves now, but Monica and I both like to sit with them in our laps at the kitchen table while they feed in the morning.

Erica was kicking her feet up against my arm as she fed while I made silly faces at her and encouraged her to drink her formula. "That's it, pumpkin, drink all your milk for Daddy."

I looked across the table at Jack and started making faces at him while he waved his bottle around in Monica's arms. I could see Mon smirking at my antics, but she never discouraged me from them.

"Come on, you", she said, coaxing the teat of the bottle back into Jack's mouth. "There we go, jellybean. We're going make you big and strong."

The babies finished their bottles and then let rip a very nice chorus of wind while we rubbed their backs. "I think they're both halfway through the alphabet," I said smiling across at Monica. She grinned back at me for a moment before she remembered she was still mad at me.

"Mom's picking them up at eight-thirty," she reminded me, slowly. "We need to start getting them ready."

"Oh, right." So, it was Saturday. The knockout rounds would begin today. "Look, Mon, I'm sorry--"

"No, Chandler. Not now, let's just get the kids ready, okay?"

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Monica's feelings, or make her feel inadequate in any way, about anything, but here I was, ruining her day, because I wasn't man enough for her. What the hell was wrong with me?

---

Judy Geller arrived, with all the promptness of a big corporation's overnight delivery package, at 08:29 AM sharp. The babies were good to go, with bottles of formula, baby food, soft toys, extra nappies, changes of clothing, baby lotion and wipes all ready and transported to the trunk of Judy's car. Strapping Jack and Erica into their car seats, which would double as their bassinets for the day, we kissed the babies and waved them off as Judy wished me good luck.

We walked slowly back to the house, I was still in my robe but Monica had already showered and was now fully dressed. Still giving me the silent treatment she veered off into the kitchen to finish cleaning up. I considered joining her to help, to have another cup of coffee, to talk, to just touch her, but instead I headed upstairs to the bathroom and took a shower. Whatever happened, there was going to be a long day ahead for us.

When I finished my shower I found her in our bedroom packing my sports bag.

"How many shirts do you think you'll need?" she asked.

Were we talking again?

I shrugged. "This is all new to me."

"I'll pack five and an extra pair of shorts."

"Okay. Thanks."

She continued to pack my bag in silence while I started to get dressed. I don't know if I can take much more of this. Without turning to face her, I finally had to know; "Are you ever going to talk to me again?"

"What do you mean, I'm insatiable?"

Our questions tripped over each other while we stood glaring at our bedroom walls. I turned around to face her and felt guilty all over again for being the one to dampen the brightness of her beautiful blue eyes.

"Oh, honey, no. I didn't mean it like that. It's not a bad thing." This time I had to make her understand what I meant, even if I wasn't entirely sure. I moved towards her, and thankfully she didn't flinch. "It's just that we've always had great sex, right?"

She didn't answer me, but dropped her shoulders and shrugged, looking down at her feet. "You know, when we first got together we were like rabbits, remember?" I said, trying to get her to smile. Monica kept her head down, but I was sure I could see the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

I pressed on. "Well it's just that we found a balance, as time went on, okay." I took another step towards her. "And then when we were trying to have a baby…."

She looked up at me then, and I could see a spark of pain flash in her eyes, but she didn't respond.

Trying to ignore the brief burst of pain that look of hers always inspired in me whenever I saw it I rushed on. "Anyway it's just that we haven't been like that, all over each other all the time, since before we were married. So, I guess it just surprised me, is all. I never knew that could happen," I finished weakly.

Oh, wait a minute; hold the phone. I think I just figured this thing out.

I took another step towards Monica, so that I was close enough to touch her. I gently touched the fingers of her left hand and when she didn't resist I pulled it up to my chest between both of my own. I swallowed hard, but my throat was dry. "Mon," I croaked, and tried to start over. "Mon, you _really_ do think I'm sexy, don't you?"

I could feel that she was trying to pull her hand back, but I wasn't going to let her go. "Please answer me," I whispered desperately.

"Yeah, so," she replied, in that way that always sounded like she was too embarrassed to actually admit something, but knew she'd been caught out.

I couldn't help the jaw-splitting grin I knew I was wearing and kissed her fingers despite the set of my face to get her to look at me. "Why, what, when, why, when, when did this happen?" I managed to stutter out excitedly as I started to bounce around.

"Chandler," Monica gave an embarrassed sigh.

"Tell me," I urged, giving her my best puppy-dog expression, "please." I pulled her to me gently and bent to nuzzle her cheek and neck, kissing her slowly and sweetly. "Please, please," I begged between kisses.

Sexy beast that I am, Monica couldn't resist me for long and was soon kissing me back just as slowly and sweetly.

Oh damn, no wait, shit, we can't be doing this now. Keep 'em in the tank, Bing; keep 'em in the tank. I tried to pull back from the kisses, but Monica is doing that thing where she's leaning in and kissing me lightly all over my face and mouth. Oh, God, she knows I can't resist it when she does that. Finally she pulled back and breathed something against my lips.

"Huh?" We've been together for more than seven years and she can still turn me into jelly. Why the hell was I complaining about all the sex?

Monica's voice is barely above a whisper as she tickles my ear with her words. "Later, Bing," she breathes against me. "Right now you have a tournament to win," she says in a more determined tone. Pushing me back firmly and patting my chest she smiled up at me. "Can't have my man all weak-kneed before a big game, so you finish getting ready and I'll put your things in the car."

Monica's right, as usual, but doesn't she realize, I'm already weak-kneed, and to tell the truth, a little disappointed. The matches today aren't that big a deal to me, I mean, sure I like to play but I'd rather play with her, if you know what I mean. To hell with being exhausted all the time.

"Come on, Chandler, move it; we have to be there by ten!"

"Yes, dear." I can't hide the disappointment in my voice, but Mon's firm slap to my backside quickly got my body back in motion.

---

"Second set and game to Bing. Bing wins 11:6, 11:8."

I shake my latest opponent's hand and murmur, "Good game," as the umpire's voice confirms my victory. There's a bunch of spectators in the school's gym hall that weren't here earlier. It's by no means full, but this tournament's actually starting to feel like one now with all the noise they're starting to generate.

I can hear applause and some cheering behind me, which I know are my team-mates, so I turn to wave in their general direction as I go to towel off and grab some water. I'm sure I can hear Monica screaming "That's my husband," proudly somewhere off to my left, but I can't focus on that now, even though I know I'm grinning.

"Well played, Chandler. You picked up some great recovery shots there." My coach congratulated me as we walked off the court and back to the designated practise area.

"Thanks, Alan. That guy was tough to beat."

"Yeah, but you did good. How are you holding up?" Alan asked. I'd just finished my third match of the day and it wasn't as if I was a young squad member or had years of conditioning on my side, so I fully understood what he was really asking me.

"I'm hanging in there, barely," I said between sips of my water bottle. "It's a good thing all my opponents are over thirty, or I'd be in serious trouble. We're talking gurneys and oxygen tanks here, my friend," I quipped.

Alan laughed and slapped me on my shoulder. "Well, take your time and warm down a little, okay. Your next match should be in about an hour, an hour and a half from now. Semi-finals, man, and in your first tourney. Good job!"

We high-fived before he left to return to the court and I slowly came down from another adrenalin induced high.

---

The son of a bitch had wrong footed me as the ball caught the edge of the table and spun wickedly. I lunged towards it, desperately trying to correct my balance and stay in the match, but all I could do was get a glancing edge off my bat and watch as the ball angled away from the table and hit the floor before rolling away.

"Third set and game to Kruger. Kruger wins 11:9, 8:11, 14:12."

I staggered towards Kruger, my opponent, and shook his hand, wishing him all the best for the final. As I limped off the court there was a rousing burst of applause as the crowd cheered us off. I stopped as I got to edge of the court and looked around for Monica. It didn't take me long to spot her dark head weaving towards me as she made her way down the aisle, sometimes pushing the still applauding spectators who were off their feet out of her way, as only she can.

"I'm sorry," I apologised when she got within earshot of me.

"What are you talking about?" she said, practically running into my arms and hugging me tightly. "You were so great. I'm so proud of you," she beamed.

She's so much better at handling defeat when she's not the one participating. "And besides, that guy was on drugs." Well, most of the time.

"Monica, this is a local ping-pong league, nobody's on drugs."

"I'll bet he is!" she said accusingly, raising her voice to full "shrill mode" as Kruger and his coach chose that moment to walk past us. "Is there a doping panel here?"

You've just got to love the balls on this woman.

---

Monica got me out there pretty quickly after that, not even letting me stop to have a shower or change and just barely giving me enough time to say a few goodbyes to my coach and team-mates, who were sticking around to watch the remaining semi and final round matches.

The day's play was finally starting to catch up with me as my muscles started to ache in the car on the drive home. I adjusted the passenger seat and tried to recline a little bit, but a Porsche doesn't really allow someone of my height that much legroom.

"You okay?" Monica asked, noticing my discomfort.

"I think I'm getting a cramp."

"We'll be home soon, sweetie."

"If I can get out of the car." My right thigh was starting to contract. "Ugh," I grunted in pain.

"Just a little further, baby," Monica consoled, taking her right hand off the gear stick to ruffle my hair. "When we get home I'll draw you a nice warm bath, okay, with all of your favourites," she promised seductively.

"With bubbles, bath salts and camomile and essential oils?"

"Yup."

"Sounds heavenly."

With Monica's help I managed to drag myself out of the car when we got home, and true to her word she set me a wonderfully warm sensuous bath that had me relaxing as soon as I stepped into our steamy bathroom.

Not trusting me to be able to hold a sponge, soap, the kids' rubber ducks or my battle ship after I got in, Monica slipped out of her blouse and knelt beside the bath. Taking the sponge in hand she washed me, slowly and lovingly. She raised each of my arms and gently washed each limb, she dipped the sponge back into the tub and washed across my chest and stomach before helping me inch forward so that she could do my back. I splashed bubbles at her and she played with me briefly before repeating the process for each of my legs before squeezing the sponge out on the top of my head.

She left me to relax for a while, returning later, as I emerged from the tub, with a large bath towel. Patting me dry before handing me my robe, she led me by the hand to our bedroom. The bedroom felt warm after the balmy heat of the bathroom, so I slipped out of my robe and put on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding face first onto the bed.

"I think you like taking baths almost as much as the babies do," Monica teased. I shifted across the duvet to make room for her and she sat next to me, running her hand up and down my back while I sighed in pleasure and closed my eyes.

I felt myself drifting off to sleep when I remembered that she'd never fully answered my question from this morning. "Babe," I whispered groggily, trying to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer. "You never answered my question."

"What question?" she replied lazily, still running her hand up my back.

"Me. Sexy. Last six months. All the sex." I'm tired; I can't go for sophistication right now, and besides--

"Are you hungry? I'll go heat up dinner."

--I knew Mon knew exactly what I meant.

"Don't try and change the subject." I reach out and find her thigh. "Stay; talk to me."

She sighed heavily, but didn't move from my side. For effect I whimpered, "Please."

Monica gave another sigh, but finally relented. "Oh, all right."

---

"Ever since Barbados, when you beat Mike for me, I've been dying to see you play again," Monica admitted to me quietly. "I knew you wouldn't want to do it if I tried to force you to play doubles, so instead I started looking for local ping-pong leagues and clubs around here that maybe you'd want to join."

I'd turned over to lie on my side and scooted down the bed a bit so that I could see Monica. She sat with her back against the headboard with my hand stroking hers in her lap. She'd put her blouse back on, but hadn't bothered to re-button it, so I had the lovely double view of her face and her bra covered breasts to entrance me while she talked.

"Is that why you were buying all those local papers when we first moved in here?" I asked smiling up at her.

She nodded in the affirmative.

"And why I would find them lying open on the sports pages?"

Another nod.

I rolled towards her slightly and kissed her hip. "Why didn't you just tell me how you felt?"

"I thought you knew! Why do you think I encouraged you to join that local club, when you finally brought it up? Why do you think Phoebe and Mike have the babies every Wednesday night--so I can sit at home and watch TV? I'm at the back of the auditorium watching you kick some kid's ass, and I love it," she grinned.

"Really?" My wife really is amazing and incredible.

"I love watching you play, Chandler," she stated quietly, almost shyly.

"And that really turns you on?"

"Hell, yeah!"

I laughed out loud, burying my head in her lap as she bent to kiss the top of my head. I brought my head up, and pulled her down so that we were now face to face. Her broad grin was almost as wide as mine and I kissed her, still laughing into it as she brought her hands up to cup my face. I pulled back slightly to kiss her nose before returning to her mouth to kiss her as deeply as she was kissing me.

We broke the kiss for some much needed oxygen a few minutes later, Monica's fingers playing against the nape of my neck, my hands buried in the lushness of her silken hair. We were both still grinning.

"You are so amazing," I said. "I can't believe sometimes I got so lucky and you fell in love with me."

"I'm the lucky one," she said, her index finger tracing a line from the crown of my head to my chin.

I captured her finger with my hand and kissed it softly before letting go. I got up onto my knees and settled myself between her legs, wrapping them around me while she loosely encircled her arms around my neck.

"I am the king of everything!" I bellowed lustily before diving down to kiss my wife hungrily.


End file.
